


Brienne of Sapphire Isle

by imagineagreatadventure



Series: JB Week 2017 [6]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anne of Green Gables inspired, Coming of Age, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-09 15:35:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12279393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagineagreatadventure/pseuds/imagineagreatadventure
Summary: When she comes home after six long years away at a boarding school as a child, Brienne finds her father, friends, herself and so much more.~Inspired by the Anne of Green Gables series





	Brienne of Sapphire Isle

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly have no idea if anyone will like this but I like it quite a lot. I, in general, love slice-of-life and coming of age tales and so decided to treat Brienne to one of the more famous ones -- along with one of the more famous (infamous) ways that a boy falls in love with a girl -- with a cracked slate slammed upon his head.

Brienne watched as thrushes spun in the breezy, sapphire sky and sighed in delight.  “They’re very pretty,” she told Septa Roelle who sniffed loudly in response. “They look as though they could be a prince and his princesses. Like Aegon and his sisters.”

“They’re birds,” Septa Roelle was swift to remind her. Almost as swift as the birds dancing in the sky. “And you should keep your unsightly mouth shut before your Father sees what you’re really like. He won’t want you if you say such things. There was a reason he sent you to boarding school after your mother died.” Septa Roelle said this last sentence with a smug satisfaction. The woman had little else to be satisfied with so she savored this the way a starving man savored the most watered down soup.

Brienne kept quiet after her septa’s reprimand even though she had a million questions roaring through her mind. The most prominent question of all was something she’d never ask the septa.

Septa Roelle rubbed her elbows which were covered by long, brown cotton sleeves. “I can’t believe I must travel with you by boat!” she exclaimed, watching the dock workers in King’s Landing with a careful, prejudicial eye. “All the way to the gods-forsaken train station on that island.”

“Why is it forsaken?” Brienne asked, confused.

“Be quiet.”

Brienne obeyed this command reluctantly, too exhausted to argue. She had very little sleep in the days past -- eagerly thinking of the island she was born on, the island where her father lived. The Sapphire Isle! Tarth! It was all too much for a little girl of twelve to comprehend after years (six long years!) of being forgotten in the King’s Landing Boarding School for Young Girls.

She wondered, again, why she was going back to Tarth. She had only received letters from her father since she left. Monthly letters that she treasured. The most recent was kept in a pocket in her worn coat that she wore now - to stave off the oncoming cold bite of winter. Perhaps that was why the thrushes were in the sky -- they were flying to the south - to Highgarden - to their winter home.

Brienne envied them their home but tried not to frown. Septa Roelle had informed her multiple times that frowning and smiling were unbecoming. Her face had to be placid like a frozen lake.

She hoped to see a frozen lake. Were there even lakes on Tarth? Or would the ocean freeze in the middle of hitting the soft, white sand? Would she finally find a kindred spirit -- someone who understood her?

Brienne couldn’t wait to find out.

* * *

 

It was sickly, pale Joanna Lannister who first noticed the girl arriving at the train station. Mrs. Lannister was traveling with her husband, a proud, stern man whose smiles were rarer than a red moon, after attending a political meeting in King’s Landing. Mr. Tywin Lannister never liked to be far from his wife -- the last time he left her for longer than a week she gave birth to a dwarf and almost died.

So although she was still weak and frail from her last child, years before, he brought his wife everywhere he went, disliking the idea that she could be left behind, too fearful that she would die this time.

His love for her was potent but it did not mean he knew everything going on in her mind. He did not know his wife was looking at the solitary, tall, and freckled child with the love of a mother, wondering what on earth was such a girl doing on her own?

“Husband,” she said, pulling at Mr. Lannister’s sleeve. He had to be pulled at twice for his attention was occupied at the ticket booth -- the prices were much too high in his opinion. “I think that child was abandoned by her caretaker.”

Twyin Lannister spared Brienne a glimpse before deciding she was not worth his attention. “I’m sure she’s fine,” he said to his wife, not realizing Joanna had let go of his arm.

She moved towards Brienne the way she approached her own children -- with a careful smile. “Dear, are you --”

Brienne burst into tears before Joanna could finish the question.

It took only a moment for Brienne to compose herself and for Joanna to wrap her arms around the girl, who was, upon further study, nearly taller than herself. “Septa Roelle left me here -- I think she forgot to give me the ticket.”

“Where are you going?” Joanna prodded and once the two determined their destination was the same, Joanna smiled. “You will come with my husband and I then. I will tell him now.”

“I can’t do that -” Brienne protested, suddenly feeling ashamed. “I am not a beggar.”

“Who are you supposed to meet there?” Joanna asked. “I am sure they will pay.”

Brienne was not but tried not to let her fear show in her eyes. Joanna marveled at the blueness. _Why they’re almost like sapphires_ , she thought. “It will be fine, sweetling. What is your name? I’m Mrs. Lannister.”

“Brienne Tarth,” Brienne answered.

 _The Tarths. Of course_. Joanna knew of them very well - at least when they were a them. Now it was just Selwyn who hid in his inherited, dilapidated manor only a few miles down the road next to the pond. She could see the resemblance between him and this girl and wondered if this was the daughter he sent away when his wife died. “I know your father,” Joanna hazarded. “And he will be very angry with me if I do not help his daughter.”

This seemed to assuage the poor girl’s nerves and so Joanna, holding onto the young lady’s hand, brought her over to Tywin who was finally purchasing his tickets. “We need another ticket,” Joanna said in a tone that Tywin knew he could not argue with. He glared down at Brienne, not sure what to think of the pale, homely girl and then looked back at the young man who shuddered from the hidden force of Tywin’s anger.

“You heard her,” Tywin said. “One more ticket.”

The train ran by pleasant vistas featuring rolling green hills, snow-capped mountains, and a friendly sea. Tarth was an island of beauty and if it had been summer the quickly moving train would have been full of tourists. As it was, there were only locals on the train leaving most of the compartments empty. The three of them found seats easily but the swaying motion made Brienne nauseous. She would have excused herself if she was not so very petrified by Tywin Lannister. She did not remember him from her younger days but if she had, she would have been even more frightened.

As it was, he said nothing to her, too busy with his newspaper which he harrumphed at whenever he could muster the need.

Joanna Lannister spoke to Brienne in words that were steady and comforting but Brienne was unused to the tone, too used to the brusque words of Septa Roelle and her “sisters” who ran the boarding school. Kind words weren’t to be trusted, the septas told the girls, and this sentiment was hammered into the brains, especially to Brienne whose ugliness was highlighted so often that no other girl wanted to befriend her. There were a few who made an attempt, but, when confronted with Brienne’s shyness, chose to turn their kind words into cruel ones. Brienne was afraid it would happen again with Mrs. Lannister.

 _But she was different_ , Brienne suspected. No adult Brienne had ever known would stare at the window so dreamily like this golden haired woman. And yet why -- or how -- did she marry her terrifying husband?

Brienne reminded herself it was none of her business - that was what Septa Roelle would say. Curiosity demanded her to ask, however. She ignored the need and busied herself with the threads on her skirt. Many of the threads were loose and Brienne wondered if her father would buy her a new skirt when she arrived. She had almost outgrown this one and she’d only had it for six months.

“You need a new skirt,” Tywin Lannister said to her, seeming to read her thoughts. He had noticed her playing with the threads earlier and was irritated seeing her do it again. _Plus_ , he thought, _her ankles were showing when they should have been covered_. And she was no peasant girl too poor to buy clothes -- her father was rich enough to buy his daughter sensible skirts that covered her ankles. Selwyn Tarth was also rich enough to send someone to ride with her on the train and yet here was this girl, younger than his dwarf son who he was quick to never let out of his sight when at home, alone.

“I do?” Brienne asked.

“It doesn’t even cover your ankles.”

“Tywin,” Joanna warned, placing a hand on Brienne’s forearm. Her attention left the vistas to focus on her husband. “Leave her be.”

The husband and wife exchanged a look Brienne would not understand until she was married herself. “Fine,” Tywin acquiesced at the end of it, although his tone was sour.

Joanna only smiled and chose to spend her victory asking Brienne questions. The lgirl answered as best as she could, although terribly nervous the whole while. Joanna sensed this, being a good mother, and pressed Brienne’s hand with her own. “You have very pretty eyes, has anyone told you that? Almost like sapphires.”

Brienne turned away in order to hide her blush. 

Amused, Joanna spoke of other things, telling Brienne all about the school she’d be going to, about her own children (Cersei, Jaime, and Tyrion), about the best places to hike and swim -- Brienne suddenly felt assured and comfortable.

And soon they were there.

“I trust you will not need a ride to your house, young lady,” Tywin Lannister said, frowning while helping his wife off the train. Brienne hopped off herself not wishing to be any further bother to the proud man.

Joanna laughed at her husband. “If she needs assistance we will give her it,” she said. “But I suspect I just saw your father head inside the station. He is the tallest man in town so he is easy to spy.”

Brienne looked into the window in order to see her father but only found her own reflection. She stopped looking -- hating what she saw -- and bid a quiet goodbye to the Lannisters, running off into the station.

“She is a strange girl,” Tywin said, watching the girl run off.

“Nothing like our Cersei, that is for certain,” Joanna agreed, clutching her husband’s arm with a smile. “And I believe I see our own children now,” she pointed out - and there they were, waiting in a buggy with their sorrel mare in front. Cersei and Jaime Lannister, her first-born twin children, seemed to be bickering about something or other -- although they both wore loud smiles as they did so.  Joanna’s youngest Tyrion was ignoring them both, glancing around the scene with a careful eye. He waved when he saw her on the platform and caught his older sibling’s attention.

“I wish he would not do that,” Tywin groused, but together they headed over to greet their children.

“Who was that ugly girl with you?” Cersei asked without even a hello. But Cersei was always a jealous, vain creature, Joanna knew although wished it was otherwise. Her daughter’s pride stemmed from Joanna’s own but was twisted into something unworthy of them both. “She was so…. **_Tall_ **.”

“Taller than you,” Tyrion laughed.

Cersei soured. “Taller than you as well, brother.” Tyrion waved this off, too used to his sister’s comments on his frame.

“Her name is Brienne Tarth,” Joanna told her children, “and she is only about a year younger than you, Tyrion.”

“She’s younger than Tyrion?” Jaime laughed. He always seemed to find a way to laugh at others. Joanna didn’t like it. She missed the sweet boy he had been in his youth, but adolescence made him cynical. “She looks old enough to be a governess - and quite as stern.”

“Let us go then before your mother saves her again,” Tywin said. “And I shall be driving,” he added when he saw Cersei look longingly at the reigns.

 _“Father!”_ she complained but knew better than to argue further. Jaime laughed.

Brienne had little knowledge of what was going on yards away, too occupied with finding her father. Her very tall Father if what Mrs. Lannister said was right. “Excuse me,” she said, parting through the small crowd with her hands, grateful that she was tall enough to see over most of the crowd’s heads. “Excuse me, I’m sorry, excuse me.”

“Brienne?” a voice said and she found she had to look up to answer it.

It was a man, taller than any other man she had met, with a blonde beard and kind eyes. She could not tell their color for he had swept her up in a hug before she could stop him. “I am so glad you’re here -- Mrs. Lannister sent me a telegram at the other station before you all left and I cannot believe that wretched school just left you there without a ticket,” he said, much too loud since his mouth was so close to her ear.

“It was just Septa Roelle,” Brienne said, embarrassed by his attention. “You are… Selwyn Tarth then?” _Her father?_

His laugh was loud enough that his chest rumbled. “Yes, yes, I’m sorry. It has been so long since you’ve seen me, hasn’t it?”

She ached to ask why it had been so long but didn’t. “Can we go home then?” she asked instead, tired from the day.

“Of course.”

Her father, on the long drive in the buggy back to their homestead, asked her a million and a half questions (or so it felt to bewildered and exhausted Brienne) about her life in King’s Landing. This was, of course, stemmed out of guilt for ignoring her for so long. He had been heartbroken when his wife died, even more heartbroken when his daughters died, and then when his son passed on. It was only him and Brienne in a terribly large house and he could not find it in him to look at her -- not when she looked so like her mother, even sharing the same sapphire colored eyes. Selwyn Tarth sent his daughter away in order to save himself -- something he now desperately wanted to make up to his daughter now.

Brienne couldn’t fully understand this though, being only twelve. She was sure she had done something wrong - sure she had wrecked the world as a child by being too loud, too ugly, too terrible at things like embroidery and sewing and everything else Septa Roelle said she had to be good at to be a worthwhile daughter.

And so it was awkward between them on the long drive home.

And for much longer after that.

* * *

An incident at the school featuring Mrs. Lannister’s son Jaime Lannister is what finally mended the father-daughter relationship fully, weeks later.

Brienne had finally grown used to her new life -- although only having a class of twenty-two students of all different ages, genders, and educational levels was rather new for her, coming from a class of thirty-nine girls at the boarding school -- but she kept onwards, knowing that if she had nothing else, she had discipline and a desire to do better.

Even if no one would talk to her.

Except, of course, Jaime Lannister who was under strict orders to try and make the girl feel welcome. His mother nagged and nagged and he felt too guilty to say no -- although his sister did not. Cersei laughed off her mother’s words and always went to find her own friends and sneered at Brienne from afar. Brienne was much too ugly and much too poor to be of any use to Cersei. “A boarding school - how awful must she have been for her father to send her away for so long?” Cersei asked loudly and as often as she could.

Brienne ignored it just as she ignored the girls who were like Cersei at the boarding school, but the inside of her mouth would taste bloody because of how often she bit the inside of her cheek. So when Jaime, the handsome, older boy that he was, chose to pay Brienne attention one winter afternoon (finally listening to his mother) he did not realize that Brienne had had enough of it all. Enough of her father’s limp excuses, enough of Cersei and her ilk’s unkind words, enough of the teacher assuming she was stupid. When handsome, older _Jaime Lannister_ pulled at Brienne’s blonde braid and said, **_“Wench!_ ** ” it took only an instant for Brienne’s true, wild and wonderful nature to come out with a roar -- causing her to break her slate right over Jaime Lannister’s head.

The class gaped at the scene in silence before devolving into hooting and hollering in outright amusement while Jaime stared up at her, bewildered by her action although his confused gaze seemed tempered by awe.

“Brienne!” the teacher said, looking half-afraid of the twelve-year-old.“What have you done? Go up to the board right this instance.”

“Yes, sir,” Brienne said dully, expecting to be hit as she once was at boarding school. She held her hands out and the teacher continued to gape. He was a young man himself, only a few years older than Jaime with a little, ugly mustache. The teacher grabbed the ruler and smacked the back of her hands once. It stung but not as much as it ought to have, Brienne thought. “Violence begets violence and violence is chaos,” he told her. “Now write that on the board.”

“How many times?”

“Until the end of the day,” he answered and then it was finished.

When Brienne arrived home, rubbing her hands, her father had already heard about what happened. How the news reached him so quickly, she did not understand, but he was livid -- and not at her. “How dare those boys touch you!” he said. “That teacher had no right -- and Lannisters always think of themselves as better than the rest.” Brienne said nothing, remembering how kind Mrs. Lannister had been to her. She wished she had remembered that before she cracked her slate over her son’s head. Jaime had tried to approach her when they all left school for the day but Brienne was quick and sure-footed and he had given up after a quarter mile. She did not want to hear more of his words -- she had heard enough from his sister. His younger brother Tyrion could be nearly as cruel although he made Brienne laugh behind her hand at times with his imitations of their terrible teacher.

She did not like Tyrion’s imitations of herself nearly as much.

“I am proud of what you did,” her father said, ending his long speech, and Brienne was surprised to find tears in his eyes. “You were brave and stood up for yourself. And if that teacher ever hits you again -- I give you permission to hit back.”

She didn’t need to do such a thing. Petyr Baelish left quickly once spring approached after being offered a prestigious scholarship to a university up in the Vale near his family. Lysa Tully followed him, marrying him the week after she graduated school, causing quite a scandal as she had been a student of his with Brienne and all the others ( _and only fifteen_ ) -- but while Brienne had frowned on it at first, soon she could not say a thing for she became desperately, hopelessly in love with Mr. Baelish’s replacement, a Mr. Renly Baratheon.

Renly Baratheon was handsome with dark hair and big blue eyes. He smiled as often as Brienne frowned and was quick to laugh at any worthwhile joke. Brienne didn’t sense the falseness in his smile -- only that he was kind to her when no one else was. He was a kindred spirit -- Brienne was sure of it.

Jaime did not like him nearly as much and made this clear whenever he approached Brienne, who would stare at Renly whenever she had a chance. “Aren’t you too young for him?” Jaime would say, noting that Renly was in his twenties and she was only thirteen.

“Go away,” Brienne would respond and it would always end with bickering and hurt feelings on both sides of the matter. 

For Jaime _liked_ her. **_Why_ ** _he liked her_ was something he did not understand, but from the moment he pulled on her straw-colored hair and she knocked him over the head, her sapphire eyes wild and angry, he suddenly felt like he understood Brienne in a way no one else would or could.

This wasn’t exactly correct. Catelyn Tully understood her nearly as well, despite being several years older. She was closer in age to the teacher than she was to the students, and would probably be married to the Old Gods pastor within a year or two if the rumors were right, but Catelyn liked the younger girl, saw something of her husband-to-be in her, and mothered her accordingly. Catelyn Tully might have only been sixteen with a rogue, wild sister but she was wise as well as kind with a tongue as sharp as any sword. And she used it against Cersei and her ilk whenever they chose to tease Brienne with cruelty.

Brienne suddenly found herself a friend of Catelyn’s without doing anything but being herself. “We’re kindred spirits, you and I,” Catelyn smiled at her over tea one afternoon.

Brienne couldn’t help but agree. Despite their differences in age and personality, Brienne was attached to the older girl. Catelyn didn’t try to convince Brienne to wear puffed sleeves the way all the other girls were -- she only suggested Brienne wear less pink. “You would look better in another color,” she said and then said it again to Brienne’s father who looked amused at how forthright this redheaded girl was.

“You’re right, Catelyn,” Selwyn said. “Brienne, what color would you like?”

Brienne wished for pants and told her father so. “Any color would do, it’s just hard to run to school in a dress. And explore the beautiful woods.” Her father, guilty over leaving her behind for so long, agreed, much to Catelyn’s horror. But soon it was a common occurrence to see Brienne traipsing to school in men’s clothes -- for she had grown tall enough to tower over most men now at age thirteen.

This was how Jaime found her one day, as she laid in the grass looking up at the blue sky, wearing pants and a white cotton shirt. “The sky is pretty,” she said to herself but Jaime heard her and knelt down.

“It is,” he amicably agreed, grinning as only a sixteen-year-old could grin when she bolted up. He was amused to see her white shirt was stained green from the grass. “The sky is so blue it looks like the color of a sapphire. Have you seen a sapphire before?”

Brienne, carefully, nodded, not willing to speak to the boy she had attacked the year before. A boy who made fun of their teacher, Mr. Baratheon, for his pristine clothes and high manners.

Jaime didn’t seem to notice her silence, looking upwards towards the sky instead of at her. “We’re called Sapphire Isle for our water but today it seems like we should be called Sapphire Isle for our sky.” When she didn’t speak again, he looked over at her, becoming irritated. “Aren’t you going to talk?”

This did annoy her enough to say something. “Not to you,” she responded, pushing herself up from the ground. Hair escaped from her braids as she did so and she fixed them quickly.

Jaime’s brow furrowed. “What did I do to you?”

“You called me wench!”

“That is definitely not the worst thing you’ve been called, Brienne.”

Brienne gazed back at him, stubborn, but was gratified to realize she was taller than him. He still had another year of growing, she knew, but still, it felt nice. “You pulled on my hair!”

“Like this,” Jaime said and reached out to touch her braid. His intent was to tease her and to not actually pull it -- he thought of himself as a much more mature young man than he had been a year ago -- but she kicked him in the shins before he could complete his teasing. He gaped. “That hurt!”

“I’ll hit you again,” Brienne warned, moving away and then taking off in a run into the white-tipped forest that would lead her home.

He didn’t follow her.

* * *

About another year passed on Tarth full of rivalry and anger between Brienne and Jaime. His sister did not help, too amused at the both of them, and eager to anger her mother’s favorite.

So when Brienne received an invitation to partake in a tea party at Cersei Lannister’s home, she was highly skeptical. It was only her remembrance of the recurring kindness of Mrs. Joanna Lannister that convinced her to accept. That and Catelyn Tully would be there as well.

“We’ll handle them quite well, Brienne,” Catelyn said, patting Brienne’s arm. “Although, I’m afraid,” she said with a smile that showed how quite unafraid she truly was about the matter, “that you’ll have to wear a dress.”

Blue with puffed sleeves. Brienne hated it the moment she put it on. “Puffed sleeves might be a tad much for you,” Catelyn agreed, pulling at them with dissatisfaction, “but you can’t wear anything less at a Cersei Lannister event.”

Joanna Lannister is who greeted them, complimenting them both on the dresses although an eyebrow was raised at Brienne’s. Still she smiled and pulled Brienne to her side many times to tell her how glad she was to see her. Brienne flushed with pleasure when she did so, amusing the older woman who had little else to amuse her most days. Cersei was least pleased to see Brienne and Catelyn and kept from them until she had to make an announcement.

“Jaime is going to the university,” Cersei informed them, taking visibly great pleasure in their applause and congratulations. Brienne was not surprised. Although his brother was first in class, he (and Brienne) were not far behind. While still attending the school, he had been _a foeman worthy of her steel_. “And I was accepted into the women’s college.”

“Why not the university?” Brienne made the mistake of asking, but she had known of several other girls who had gone on to the university. Most of them had gone to the college first but that was true of the boys as well. The college prepared the students for the university’s long hours of studying but Brienne knew Cersei was smart enough. She was only behind Brienne due to her dislike of reading books.

Cersei’s tinkling laugh and hard eyes were enough of an answer but she spoke just in case the nonverbal message wasn’t clear enough.“Because that’s not where proper girls go to get husbands.”

 _Was that anger at me or at someone else_ , Brienne wondered later, as she laid in bed. The stars outside were bright, illuminating the scene outside her home and, without hesitation, left her bedroom and her home to go out into the blooming, wide world.

In the darkness, the cloud-covered moonless night, she could be a beauty, _a knight_. She threw out her right hand and jabbed at an imaginary opponent, spinning around swiping at mythical White Walkers and dastardly villains like the Crow’s Eye, she cried, “I am Brienne of Tarth and I will defeat you.”

Jaime, who had been passing by in the dark, coming home from a day’s work at his Uncle Gerion’s dock, smiled at the sight of Brienne. He removed his hat so he could better see the fourteen year old play, wishing that he was still young enough to join in. Wishing she liked him enough to let him. Still he chose to cry out, “What are you doing?” making the young woman still, frozen in her gesture.

He had not been close enough to her before to see that she was still wearing a nightgown but now the full vision was coming through. Amusement grew in his belly until he laughed outright at the sight of her, her hair mussed, her face frowning the way an old woman’s would, and her body covered in an ugly, white linen nightgown. _What a sight,_ he marveled to himself.

“What do you want?” she demanded instead of answering him.

He was always amused at finding her so expressive to him when to everyone else she was as quieter than a Silent Sister. “I wanted to go home,” he said. “But I saw you and had to know what was going on.” He walked closer and she didn’t retreat, her bare feet firm on the soil.

“I’m a knight,” she said. Her defiant, sapphire eyes flashed at his repeated laughter. “Now must I ask you to leave?”

“I suppose you must,” Jaime smirked. “Although, I’d remind you that I’m on a public road -- you can’t stop me from staying.”

At _that_ , she balled her hands into fists and placed them on her hips. Jaime was certain he had seen the expression before and, with a laugh, realized Catelyn Tully was rubbing off on Brienne. “Stop laughing,” she said.

“How?” he asked. “You look utterly ridiculous.”

Suddenly -- almost as if the gods heard his laughter -- the clouds parted and the moonlight spilled down. Jaime was still hidden in the shadows from the trees around him, but _Brienne_! Brienne was caressed by the moonlight and the stars now and Jaime could not help but be almost afraid. Heaven’s kiss kept her plain yet… in this light, she could almost be a beauty. _Almost a knight._

Her sapphire eyes were just as wild ( _and hurt,_ he realized with shame) as when she cracked a slate over his head. “Just go!” she said, raising her chin.

Jaime obeyed, walking off into the darkness, leaving Brienne to sink onto the ground. She did not weep -- too old and tired to weep. She would be fifteen soon enough -- in a matter of weeks -- and fifteen-year-old girls were not girls. They were young women expected to be strong. And Jaime would be gone soon -- gone from her life for the next few months at the very least. He might come back to help his Father but by then he’d be grown and she’d be grown and he’d leave her alone. He’d be married to some mainlander beauty and Brienne would --

Be alone, most like. The rest of the girls around her age (few that there were) had beaus and were invited out for rides. Brienne never had the pleasure of an invite and suspected she never would. She’d be an old maid.

When she spoke of her suspicions to her younger classmate Pia as they wandered the woods together, embracing the beauty of the rising mountains and the trees, Pia disagreed. Pia huffed as they climbed up a particularly tough hill, her pretty face turning red from the exertion, so her words were punctured by deep breaths. “I -- don’t -- think -- you’ll -- be -- an -- old -- maid -- Brienne.”

Brienne stopped and pulled on Pia’s hand. “Do you want me to carry you?”

“No -- I’m -- fine.”

Brienne debated about ignoring this but remembered she had been forced into wearing a skirt today. Catelyn had asked her to attend a service of Ned’s and insisted on Brienne wearing a skirt or a dress. The service had been nice even though they weren’t her gods. Despite this, she sensed the gods here in the forest, watching her in the shadows. She shivered.

“Brienne -- you’re -- too -- nice,” Pia continued, sitting down on a pile of leaves. “Someone -- will -- fall -- in -- love -- with -- you.”

“That doesn’t mean I’ll love them.”

“You will,” Pia said and that was the end of that.

* * *

The Lannister twins had been gone for a near year by the time she saw them again. Cersei was soon to be engaged to some mainlander -- a Rhaegar Targaryen -- and Jaime was doing well in his classes. This was, of course, according to Tywin Lannister who said it all in a clipped tone, stopping questions in their tracks.  Tyrion Lannister was accepted into a prestigious university program in King’s Landing but it was rumored that Tywin wouldn’t let his son go. It was no secret that his youngest son was his least favorite child (not that it’d be any better being a favorite child, Brienne thought) but no one thought he’d try to force his son to stay at home.

“He will teach at the local school,” Tywin said and thus began the campaign against Renly Baratheon.

Brienne hated Tywin for this in a way she had never hated him before.

Mr. Baratheon was the only man to spare her a kind word (other than her own father -- who had difficulty recommending himself to Brienne after six years of abandonment) and he was _handsome and wonderful_.

To her.

To others, including homebound Jaime Lannister, he was merely a veneer of a good man. Ned Stark didn’t think much of him either, despite being friends with Renly’s older brother who lived across the channel. It was one of the only topics Ned Stark and Jaime Lannister agreed on.

They agreed on little else.

“He’s a right prat that Ned Stark,” Jaime said to Brienne when he chanced upon her in town one sunny afternoon. “Thinks he’s better than the rest of us.”

The town could say the same about Jaime, Brienne knew and told him so. Jaime seemed amused rather than annoyed by her defiance. “His sister is coming for the wedding,” Brienne said after the diverting argument, eager to set a peace between them.

Jaime nodded. “I heard that. His whole family is coming from so far North. Must be a long journey.”

“A week or two depending on if they take a steamer or not.”

“Any other mainlanders coming?”

“Some of Ned’s friends from university,” Brienne said. “One of them being Renly’s older brother.”

A disgruntled look crossed Jaime’s face but he laughed. “Is he Renly now?”

“I’m his assistant now,” she informed him. “I graduated a month ago and have been hired to help him.”

Jaime’s expression changed into something she didn’t quite understand. “Congratulations, Brienne.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“You’re almost sixteen now, aren’t you?” Wary of where this was going she gave him the affirmative response. “Then,” Jaime said, “are you going to try to become the bride of Renly? You’re about the age most girls get married. Well at least on the island.”

“Catelyn waited,” Brienne quickly countered. “As did your sister.”

“Out of the ordinary,” he said, waving them off.

“I’m going to university as soon as I save up the funds. I won’t need to marry anyone.”

“And who would have you?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re a stubborn girl,” Jaime said. “One who is smarter than most other people although you pretend to be slow. Most men don’t like girls like that.”

Brienne debated about kicking him like she would have done a year ago. But she was older now -- a young lady. Still the urge was strong. “And most men don’t like girls who look like me.”

“Didn’t say that.”

“Didn’t have to.”

It is needless to say that this conversation, like most of their conversations, did not end on a high note. _It is good he is going back to university tomorrow_ , Brienne thought angrily while preparing for bed that night, although a sharp pang in her heart followed the thought. She ignored it, not willing to consider her heart’s ideas on the matter and quickly went to sleep, ready to forget all about Jaime Lannister and his terrible father.

Ready to dream of Renly’s blue eyes (almost like sapphires).

But, for some reason, she only dreamt a lion with emerald eyes.

* * *

“Before you get married, we must do something mad!” Pia told Catelyn about a month before the older girl’s marriage. Pia and Catelyn were not especially close but had been brought together for Brienne’s sake who was more overwhelmed by their unity than relieved.

Catelyn looked amused. “What should we do?”

The day was bright and the sun was merry which only increased Pia’s cheer. “What about that poem Brienne loves to read?”

Brienne shook her head. She hated to admit her love of poetry even to her dearest friends. It seemed to amuse them all too much.

As evidenced by Catelyn’s expression. “What about it?” the older girl asked.

“We could act it out -- “

“What poem?” Catelyn interrupted. “I know she has several favorites.”

“The one about the lady and the bear!”

“How would we act that out?” Catelyn asked with the sort of reasonable voice that belonged to a mother rather than a girl of nineteen. “We don’t have a bear.”

“Then the one about the lion --”

“We don’t have that either,” Brienne added quickly.

Pia thought this over carefully. The rest of her suggestions (Dragonknight? The Queen of Roses? Nymeria?) were quickly thrown out until finally, Brienne spoke up.

“Why don’t we just go rowing? I know my father has two boats we could use. I will sit in the smaller one by myself and we can race in my pond.” Her father’s pond extended for a long while -- in some circles it was called a lake, but Brienne had seen lakes on the mainland and thought little of the idea.

Catelyn agreed to this and, while pouting, Pia agreed as well. Brienne was stronger and therefore won the race with ease and lack of exhaustion, while both Catelyn and Pia looked pale by the end of it. “I think it is time we go home,” Catelyn said.

Brienne waved them off with a smile, keen to explore the pond in the height of summer. Fish swirled underneath her oar and she tried not to disturb them or their homes. She itched to swim in the water, but supposed that would be a terrible idea. It was a deep pond and her skirt could easily trap her legs making it near impossible to swim.

The bridge that led from town to her property approached and Brienne ducked her head to ensure she would not be hit and whilst doing so, was startled by Jaime Lannister’s rapidly paling face. He was clutching the pile bridge with all his might, the lower half of his body covered by the water. “Brienne,” he greeted, his eyes amazed and amused.

“Jaime,” she nodded as if this was a usual circumstance. She kept a steady grip on the oar, attempting to stop the boat. “Do you need help?”

He nodded and she pulled the boat close and extended her hand. Scrambling, Jaime grabbed it and landed in the seat across from her, shaking the boat a bit in his attempt. The tiny boat felt tinier with him in it.

“How in --”

“Seven hells?” He smirked and, for the first time, she noticed that his white shirt was wet as well. “Blame Tyrion.”

Brienne wasn’t sure if she wanted to know more about his situation than that.

They were silent together as she rowed them back to shore -- Brienne unsure, Jaime feeling embarrassed for the first time in his life. Still he made an attempt at amends when they reached the dock. “Look, Brienne,” he said, extending his hand to help her out.

She ignored it and he sighed, running a hand through his golden hair. “I want to thank you. Can’t we be friends? I never meant to vex you before. I was a prat then, and, I suppose, a prat now. But I’m trying, Brienne.”

Brienne hesitated. The half-shy, half-eager expression Jaime now wore tugged on a part of her she hadn’t known existed. _He was beautiful,_ she thought, and somewhere between her heart and her stomach was thrumming with a new awakening -- a new light that shone through her eyes well enough for even Jaime to spy. He smiled, thinking he was forgiven, but it was his smile that doomed him.

“I can’t,” she only said, fleeing. Jaime was left there, standing by her father’s boat, mouth agape at her refusal.

* * *

Red autumn leaves heralded the event of Catelyn Tully and Ned Stark’s marriage. Brienne dreaded it. Her bridesmaid costume was a horrendous shade of lavender and her only fancy jewelry (a sapphire brooch that her grandmother once wore) did not go with the flouncy dress. The worst of it was that it had puffed sleeves making Brienne feel even larger and more ridiculous.

No one else looked ridiculous, although it was only Catelyn’s sister Lysa (Lysa Baelish, she informed them all smugly, showing off her wedding band), in the dresses. Lysa looked nearly radiant. Brienne hated standing next to her.  Catelyn wore a snowy dress with a veil pressed delicately on her red hair,  looking as beautiful and regal as a queen. Brienne admired her friend who smiled at Ned with a shy delight.

The ceremony itself was out of a tale -- they spoke their vows in front of the heart tree with all of them watching. Ned’s expression was as solemn as the face on the tree while Catelyn’s hand tremored when Ned pressed it. They kissed with such warmth that Brienne almost looked away, fearful of something she didn’t know. She did not dare to look back at the crowd, where she knew Jaime would be sitting, did not dare to look anywhere but the crying tree whose feelings represented her own.

After the vows, the celebration began. A wind danced through the scene of children, ladies, and gentlemen, pulling at the decorations and pageantry with an idle gentleness. Brienne, who chose to stand as far from possible from most of the people, watched the scene with smiling eyes. Cersei was there with her husband-to-be, Rhaegar although he spent much of the evening speaking to Ned Stark’s younger sister.

Robert Baratheon came up to her only once, thanking her for keeping Renly in line while he lived there, and, just as quickly, left her to talk to Cersei.

As soon as she recovered from his presence, Jaime approached. “I heard you passed all the tests to get into Queen’s,” Jaime said, referring to the university in King’s Landing named after Westeros’ first ruling Queen Daenerys Targaryen. He smiled up at her. When had she grown taller than him? She had not noticed this when he had sat in her boat weeks before. “It seems as if I’m always offering you congratulations but congratulations, Brienne. I know you worked hard for it.”

“How do you know about that?”

“Father knows everything about everyone,” Jaime shrugged. “And he respected your fight for Renly even if he thought it was foolish.” Renly left the island, not eager to stay at a place that hated him. Brienne learned quickly that Renly only liked to be at places that adored him. It was why he picked Brienne as his assistant.  “You at least made valid arguments in the matter. And Mother was proud of you. She always talks about the day on the train.”

Brienne ducked her head. It was common knowledge that Joanna Lannister was not doing well. It was said that Tywin Lannister took long walks by the cemetery -- as if already practicing the path he would take when she was gone from this world. “Tell her I would enjoy seeing her soon.”

Jaime’s eyes flickered with something. “I will.”

The breeze, which had stroked Brienne’s hair like the mother she had never had, grew into a gust. Hats flew off, dresses flew up, and leaves flew off into the sky and down onto the ground. A very large, orange leaf fell onto Brienne’s head as she clutched at the bottom of her dress. Jaime laughed and then removed it from her poofed, uplifted hair. “You’re very poofy today,” he remarked. “Your hair, the dress.”

Brienne was too resigned to be angry. “I hate it all.”

“I can see why.”

“Do you have to be so--” The word _Cruel_ was on the tip of her tongue but she didn’t much like the word. Jaime wasn’t cruel. He was infuriating and stubborn and aggravating but not cruel. Not anymore. “Irritating,” she settled on, uncomfortable with the idea he was a kindred spirit. Because he felt like one now and she did not like it.

Jaime fingers were deft as he twirled the orange leaf around and around. “Some could say the same about you.” She opened her mouth to argue but he shook his head. “I didn’t mean to start an argument, my apologies.” Stumped by the sudden outburst of maturity, she tried not to stare at him. It was never a secret that he was the most handsome man in town -- not even Renly could compete. But to look at him now, as he stared at her with soft eyes, she had never felt so under siege by his beauty. “I wanted to ask if I could visit you while you attend school. I won’t be far from you and it’d be nice to have a childhood companion at my side.”

Is that all she was to him? She had thought... when he spoke to her when she saved him… well, it was no matter what she thought or felt, Brienne decided. “I suppose that’s fine.”

Jaime laughed and it danced away in the wind. “Fine? I _suppose_ I must accept that as an answer.”

Brienne rolled her eyes and he laughed again, although it was tempered by his pressing, comfortable gaze. He pushed aside tendrils of his golden hair and Brienne watched as the leaf dropped from his hands. “I only meant --” she said.

“I know,” Jaime said. “Come, let’s walk home together. This party has grown rather dull,” he added, bending his neck. Brienne looked where he had been gesturing and saw Cersei and Rhaegar arguing. Quickly, and surprisingly, she agreed to leave.

He offered his arm to her as they walked in the muddy grass and then joked when she declined. She ignored him as she always did, not eager to encourage his talk, but sometimes he would strike a humorous line and she would smile enough to make him grin wider, his hands stuffed in his pant pockets. “You can’t hide your smile from me,” he told her.

She shook her head, insistent. “I’m not hiding anything.”

He jogged a bit to get ahead, almost tripping on the slippery leaves on the floor of the forest. Their path was little used -- increasing the danger and delight. “Are you alright?” Brienne asked, slightly concerned when he almost tripped for the fourth time. “You should slow down.”

“If I get ahead and walk backwards,” he told her, “then I can see when you choose to smile.” She shook her head at him but still a smile escaped before she could stop it. “See!” he crowed. “Like then.”

“Stop that,” she told him. “You’re going to get hurt.”

Jaime did stop in his tracks then causing Brienne to stop as well or else she would have run into him. “Then you do care if I get hurt?” he asked.

“Of course!” she said. “I saved you didn’t I?”

His eyes were filled with a sort of longing Brienne remembered from the scene by the pond. It made her fearful but… courage was rising in her heart as well. She kept her gaze leveled at him and tried not to show her fear.

Jaime did not see the fear -- only the rosy flush spreading on her neck and the flash of her sapphire eyes. “You did,” he said, gamely, remembering the day with a hint of trepidation. “And I hope today we can truly start being friends, Brienne.”

“We can,” she agreed.

He grinned. “We’re kindred spirits after all, aren’t we Brienne?” This time when he offered his arm, she took it, ignoring the curious feeling rising in her heart and inner consciousness.

* * *

 At King’s Landing, Brienne’s mind could not be full of Jaime, but of studying and books and the fear of running into Septa Roelle. She knew she struck a curious figure when walking the cobbled streets and knew she would be easily recognizable even to someone she had not seen in years. She had a remarkable face, Jaime liked to tease now that they were friends, and that made her easily found by those she did not want to see.

“I found out what happened to your good Septa,” Jaime said one day, interrupting her at the public library. The librarian glared at Jaime from afar but Jaime, being Jaime, ignored him and smiled at Brienne. “Consider it your birthday present.”

“Present?” she asked.

“She was removed from your boarding school not long after you left,” Jaime said, “and I have good reason to believe my own mother was the cause of it.”

Brienne blushed upon hearing that. The last she had spoken to Jaime’s mother, the week before Brienne left for university, Joanna had said something that stirred Brienne’s heart. “You are like a daughter to me, Brienne,” Joanna told her, clutching her hand. “Let yourself be happy and damn the ones who don’t allow you to have that happiness.”  

“Where is she now?” Brienne asked, ready to shake off the heart-sickening memory of Joanna Lannister.

“Working as a Silent Sister,” Jaime said, grinning. “She won’t be able to be cruel to little girls anymore.”

Good, Brienne thought but then felt shame at it. Jaime seemed to sense this and shook his head. “Damn her, Brienne, and don’t feel bad about it,” he said, channeling his mother. “Come, let me take you to dinner. You haven’t had a good meal in weeks, I can see it. And it’s your birthday! I have to insist on it.”

She allowed him to take her out to a nice restaurant by the water and ignored the curious glances that fell in their direction. She wore a skirt quite often now, as Queen’s required their students to do so, but that didn’t erase her discomfort. “Brienne,” Jaime said when she barely touched her plate. “What is the matter? Is it your classes? I can help. You’re trying to become a doctor right?”

“I am,” she replied, “but that’s not what the matter is.” She was doing exceedingly well in her classes and even her male professors thought she would be a wonderful doctor.

He reached out her her gloved hand and took it in his own. She met his curious gaze with a flinch. “Brienne,” he said again. “You are old enough to tell me what the matter is. We have been friends now, true friends, for about two years.”

Two years. Brienne almost smiled. So much had happened since. Catelyn had borne her first child -- a boy named Robb and was expecting another soon. Cersei had married Robert Baratheon and her once fiance Rhaegar married Ned’s younger sister Lyanna instead and gave him a son named Jon. Brienne herself had done little other than studying -- except when Jaime removed her from her books and insisted on taking her out. And he was going to graduate soon -- and become whatever he wanted to be.

“Are you going back to Tarth?” she asked.

His face, which had been full of concern, changed into something smug. “Why?” he asked, looking much too delighted.

“Answer the question, Jaime.”

Jaime was deciding on whether to tell the truth or not, but, knowing how much Brienne appreciated honesty, settled on the truth, making his delighted face smooth into sadness. “For a month during the summer,” he said.  “Mother is not doing well.”

Brienne quieted. “May I visit her sometime soon?”

“Her door is always open to you, Brienne,” Jaime smiled. “I sense that she likes you more than me.” He looked into Brienne’s kind, sad eyes and sighed, releasing his clasp on her hand. “But why did you ask if I was going back to Tarth?”

Brienne missed his touch. She had felt the warmth of his fingers through the gloves. “I would miss you here,” she said, not willing to lie. “It would be too strange.” Their comradeship -- their friendship -- had kept Brienne afloat in a city that was too familiar for comfort. His laughter kept her warm and his eyes kept her focused on her dreams.

“Strange without me?” His voice was light enough to make Brienne’s heart beat wildly.

“Yes,” she said and he took her hand again surprising Brienne.

His grin surprised her more. “I knew it,” he said. “Brienne, do you love me?”

Shocked -- Brienne nodded and was rewarded with Jaime’s kiss on her palm. She curled inwards at his touch yet desperately wanted more. “I love you as well, Brienne,” Jaime said. “Kindred spirits we may well be but now we can be husband and wife. I’ll work at home with the children and you’ll be the doctor who saves everyone’s lives.”

Brienne laughed, embarrassed and delighted.

When they left the restaurant by the sea, arm in arm as they had been two years ago, Jaime drew her close and kissed her. Brienne smiled down at him and they both laughed. “Mother will be supremely pleased,” he told Brienne. “She always loved you.”

“And your Father?”

Jaime’s voice was wry. “Well, he’s always wanted a doctor in the family.”

Brienne would have shaken her head if Jaime had not kissed her again. “It doesn’t matter,” he told her. “ _You’re_ all I want from life.”

“You’re not all I want,” Brienne said and Jaime laughed.

“And that’s why I love you,” he said, amused.

Arm in arm, they walked together on the path to her boarding house, both unaware of the looks that passed their way, too wrapped up in the love that settled on them like the morning sun, too happy to care even if they had noticed. Marriage and a home and a family was on their horizon and it was what they saw in each other’s eyes. A sapphire ring was presented to Brienne when they reached her home. “I have kept it in my pocket for the last three months,” he explained.

“Is it sapphire for the island?” she asked, placing it on her ring finger, surprised to find that it already fit perfectly. "For our Sapphire Isle?" 

“For your eyes,” Jaime said before kissing her once more.

**Author's Note:**

> "foeman worthy of her steel" is something directly from Anne of Green Gables and it is such a J/B thing that I had to steal it. I literally laughed out loud when I saw it.
> 
> I hope you did like it even though I think it's quite different (I wish I had more time to make it longer/more thorough but I had very little time this week and last week). If you DID like this, here are some recs!
> 
>  
> 
> **[All the Roads are Winding](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8737036/chapters/20030488)** \- by ShirleyAnn66:  
>  _“This experiment should, hopefully, prove the multiverse theory and I was just wondering...Do you think there are people who are destined to be together no matter what universe they’re in? No matter what paths their lives may take?”_ (Complete)
> 
>  **[In the Mists of Honor: A Story of Tarth](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7970410/chapters/18231175)** \-- by ShakespeareofThrones:  
>  _A thousand memories came flooding back to Brienne; the fresh smell of mountain flowers, the whispered rush of waterfalls, keeping up with her father’s long strides through the castle corridors. There were darker memories too, but these were brushstrokes of her past--like shadows that creased the sun-soaked hills._ ...The hidden past of Brienne of Tarth and those who surround her on the Sapphire Isle. Mostly Brienne-centric with a Jaime/Brienne epilogue in the last three chapters. (20/22 chapters)


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